No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks br The silence of the summer day, br As by the loveliest of all lakes br I while the idle hours away. br br I pace the leafy colonnade, br Where level branches of the plane br Above me weave a roof of shade br Impervious to the sun and rain. br br At times a sudden rush of air br Flutters the lazy leaves o'erhead, br And gleams of sunshine toss and flare br Like torches down the path I tread. br br By Somariva's garden gate br I make the marble stairs my seat, br And hear the water, as I wait, br Lapping the steps beneath my feet. br br The undulation sinks and swells br Along the stony parapets, br And far away the floating bells br Tinkle upon the fisher's nets. br br Silent and slow, by tower and town br The freighted barges come and go, br Their pendent shadows gliding down br By town and tower submerged below. br br The hills sweep upward from the shore, br With villas scattered one by one br Upon their wooded spurs, and lower br Bellaggio blazing in the sun. br br And dimly seen, a tangled mass br Of walls and woods, of light and shade, br Stands, beckoning up the Stelvio Pass, br Varenna with its white cascade. br br I ask myself, Is this a dream? br Will it all vanish into air? br Is there a land of such supreme br And perfect beauty anywhere? br br Sweet vision! Do not fade away; br Linger, until my heart shall take br Into itself the summer day, br And all the beauty of the lake; br br Linger until upon my brain br Is stamped an image of the scene, br Then fade into the air again, br And be as if thou hadst not been.